The art of delegation

The art of delegation is alive and well. I had always considered myself the master of this particular dark art, but I am as nothing compared with Mr Clipboard. He rang yesterday from his chauffeur driven car from the airport to ensure that I had collected 3 others together for tennis (I hadn’t) that I had booked the tennis court (I hadn’t) and that I had booked lunch at The Auberge St Donat for lunch (I hadn’t), and to ensure that squid was not on the menu. He had apparently told the chef when he was last down in September that he would be arriving for lunch at precisely 12.45 on 18th October and that on no account was squid to be on the menu. I think I have delegated at least one task, the booking of the restaurant to the wingco, who enjoys a particularly cosy relationship with the Auberge.

My picture today shows the very first attempt by the French to build the Channel Tunnel. The earliest prototypes threw up a number of problems. as you can see this is more of a bridge than a tunnel and it also starts at St Tropez in the Mediterranean, so the designer seems somewhat geographically challenged. I am also less than convinced about the quality of materials being used in this particular construction, but all’s well that ends well.

I like the idea of the small plastic table

Last night then, to the Thornton Allan’s for dinner with Mr Clipboard and his stunningly attractive wife Ashley. With the impending publication of my book, the launch lunch for which is now incidentally sold out, and thus confirmation of my status as an author, I have decided that I need to pay some attention to my public image as Johnny Rotten may once have said..

Thus to that end I have decided to grow a goatee beard which, even though I say it myself, is already luxuriant and admired by almost nobody except rather surprisingly by that nice lady decorator. Mr Clipboard describes it as “very annoying facial hair” and has spent a fair degree of time recently plotting with Mr Thornton Allan and indeed last night with the stunningly attractive Mrs Thornton Allan plus slightly less stunningly attractive local estate agent Cubby Wolff to try to remove it, without my permission. This has involved a number of very dangerous maneuvers, mostly involving scissors, to attempt to set back its growth by several weeks. Now I am all for a little judicious pruning when required and it may be argued that it needs a little tidying up, but what they have in mind, and last night were trying to carry out, was more akin to scalping or, to be more precise, chinning.

Thus the evening was a little less relaxing than I had hoped but I (and the goatee) escaped just about intact, but there is a real danger that someone will get to it before the big launch lunch on 7th November. Three weeks is a long time to be vigilant and will be quite wearing as I shall have to be on my guard at all times. As I now beginning to realise, impending fame, at least in my own mind, can have its drawbacks or should I say scalpbacks?

Clearly, with just barely 15 minutes of composed time available to me before tennis at 11.00 (no sane person leaves his bed before 10am, then there is breakfast to negotiate) I will have to work fast to put in the usual full office day promoting the services of Currencies Direct, but will continue that quest through tennis, lunch and whatever else will befall me thereafter today.